


All in Due Time

by FanficLuver



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18353738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficLuver/pseuds/FanficLuver
Summary: This is a rewrite of a previously unfinished work by the title of Safety In NumbersAn unknown powered girl is living in NYC. Will she find the avengers, or will they find her first?In which all the bad guys are good guys and nobody's dead but the real bad guy.





	1. Lukewarm Beer

“Hey!” A man snapped from across the busy bustling bar. “I need another drink!” He was drunk and loud, and should have been sent home an hour ago, but Cat began to pour the man’s drink.

“Cat!” called someone else. This time they were on her side of the bar. “Finish up. Your shift ends in 2 minutes”

“Will do.” Cat grunted, lifting her serving tray that was piled with drinks. Her arms shook a bit, and she nearly lost her balance.

“You good?” there was a hand on her arm. It was her coworker again, the one that had told her her shift was nearly over.

“Yeah,” she adjusted her tray. “Just tired.”

“Well go home and get some rest.” He said, “and eat something Cat, you’re skin and bones these days.” He squeezed her arm a bit and smiled.

“Of course Luke. Thanks for looking out for me.” Cat returned the smile. Luke looked like he was going to say something else, but just squeezed her arm and turned back to the bar. Cat readjusted herself one more time then lifted the door in the bar and waded into the mass of drunken people.

Pushing through the loud boisterous crowd would have been easy if she didn't have a gigantic tray full of liquid. Dodging swinging arm after pole cue after drunken stumble, Cat dropped off drinks to nearly every table in the bar, and finally reached her last table. They had been drinking all night, and Cat wanted to be able to get away as quickly as possible with as little spillage as she could muster. The smack of a hand on her ass was not surprising when she turned around to leave.

“Damn she’s as bony as she looks.” Slurred the man. Cat turned around and swatted the man’s hand away as he came in for another feel. 

“Woah!” exclaimed another man sitting at the table, also slurring, “Am I trippin’ or are her eyes jacked up!” The drunk man nearly fell out of his chair pointing at her face. Cat scowled. She didn’t like when people made fun of her eyes. Mostly brown with one chunk of blue-grey in the right one and two chunks in the left, they tended to attract attention. Some people said they were beautiful, others were less kind.

Normally, she would get the guy who touched her but and the rest of his rowdy crew kicked out, but her shift was nearly over and she just wanted to go home. Deciding to ignore the men she tucked her tray under her arm and sharply turned, weaving through the tables and trying to ignore the familiar feeling of wanting to stab her eyes out with a mini umbrella from a nearby drink. Ducking back under the door of the bar, she went into the back, nodding to Luke and handing him her tray on her way. She shoved herself into the broom closet that was the break room and finally took a breath that didn't immediately make her eyes water. She tossed her apron onto the folding chair that was the dingy room’s only permanent resident. This job sucked, but but she got paid in cash and Luke didn't ask her many questions, so it was the best she could get.

Cat’s stomach gurgled. Her frown deepened as she looked down at it. Luke was right, she didn't eat nearly as much as she should. Part of that was skipping dinner breaks so other, shadier employees could take more, but most of it was that she straight up couldn't afford it. It was a shame too, because she loved to cook. Or, she thought she did. She liked the idea of cooking.

“I think I left a yogurt in the fridge from last week...” Cat muttered, picking up her coat and pulling it on. It was thin and flimsy but it was warmer than nothing. Shoving open the sticky door that opened to the alleyway next to the bar she braced herself against the cold and stepped out. The wind slammed the door shut behind her, making her jump even though it happened every night.

She began her walk home.


	2. Soft winds

Cat kept up appearances as she left the bar, just to make sure Luke didn't accidentally walk in (or out) on her, but as soon as the door slammed behind her she pulled off the thin coat.

She was shivering now, but she grabbed a bag stashed behind a nearby dumpster and shoved the coat in it. She set it up so it stood up by itself, staying open with the handles propped up. She stood up straight and shook herself out. She pulled her arms inside her sleeves. They were always the most annoying part. 

Then her skin began to shift. Her clothes got larger, or, really she got smaller. Her feet shrunk and shriveled in her shoes, and she mentally smacked herself in the head for forgetting to kick them off. They would be a pain in the butt to get in the bag. Fingers thinned and narrowed, and multiplied, turning softer, then into feathers. The feathers crept up her arms until they reached her head, which now sported a wickedly sharp beak instead of a human nose and mouth.

The whole transformation took no longer than a second, but Cat, now a cooper’s hawk the size of a sub sandwich and a half, was drowning in clothes.

Blessing the fact that she wasn’t wearing a crewneck today, she wiggled out of the neck hole of her shirt and flopped onto the cement of the alleyway. Flapping a bit she righted herself, then got to work. Getting the rest of her clothes into the bag was the most difficult part, but if it meant she could fly home instead of walk it was worth it. Grabbing the neckline of her shirt with her beak she began to flap, lifting herself and the shirt off the ground. A few feet over and she deposited the shirt into the bag. She did the same with her pants.

Finally the shoes. She mentally smacked herself again for forgetting to take them off. It wasn’t hard to get them in the bag, but they had a penchant of knocking it over, spilling other things or making the bag nearly impossible to pick up again. She gave them a short beady hawk stare, then got to work. Not wanting her nose or mouth anywhere near shoes that should have been cleaned a year ago, she grabbed one with her talons and carefully, gently, ever so lightly deposited it in the bag. The bag stayed upright. She did the same with the other shoe. The bag stayed upright. She let out a breath of relief. Grabbing both handles in her talons she lifted off.

Her threadbare clothes weighed almost nothing, so the bag wasn’t much of an issue as she drifted over the city. The wind was good tonight, and she aimed herself for the building that stood out even more than the empire state building.

Stark Tower.

She made good money at the bar, Luke paid her enough to live on, and she even made close that amount in tips some weeks, but she could barely afford to eat because she didn't live in the seedy part of town that the bar was in. She lived up in Midtown, two blocks away from the shiny A itself. The apartment was a blessing, even though it cost way too much.

As a powered person, being nearby people who could protect her, or protect people _from_ her, was top priority. But when she found out about the rules, the regulations, the _contracts_ involved with living with the Avengers, she figured she was just as safe 2 blocks away with her freedom intact. She angled herself more to the left as a strong wind from the sea blew over the city.

The smell of food wafted up from below, along with the quiet sounds of chatter and a night out. Cat’s heart ached for the life she wished she could have. There was a lot standing in the way of that at the moment though. A mountain the size of manhattan really. Deep-seated anger bubbled in her chest. That kind of life had been hers to hold once. Someone had _stolen_ it from her. She pushed the anger back down. It was useless now. _She_ had stolen their arm and half their face. Anger would get her nowhere.

Cat breathed in the cold air as she approached Stark Tower. Lazily circling down, she aimed for her building. From the outside it was a nice, high end apartment building. The apartments above ground probably cost somewhere near $10,000 a month, and she liked to look in the windows while she was gliding down to the street. The elegant furnishings and pristine decor screamed _money_ . While Cat admired from afar, she knew she could never live somewhere like that. If she hadn’t seen people in the rooms before, she would swear nobody lived there but a cleaning crew - who _definitely_ windexed the outside of the windows. 

Cat lightly dropped the bag on the sidewalk outside the building before landing. The upstairs apartments were only a fleeting part of her world. She lived in the basement of the building, in a dingy studio apartment that was always too hot or too cold. It was good enough for Cat. She picked up her bag with her beak and hopped to the cracked open window near the base of the building. She dropped the bag into the window. Then feathers turned to fur, talons to claws, and beak to whiskers, and Cat’s namesake dropped into the window after it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I'm back again with a slightly longer chapter. sorry it took so long. I'm really working towards this being a final project though. gonna be honest i rewrote this completely a week ago. Its also half of what i originally intended to be in this chapter, but i wanted to get something out. Its long enough anyway i guess.


End file.
